


warm in your embrace

by winterbitch (WinterLadyy)



Category: The Witcher (TV), Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types
Genre: Cuddling & Snuggling, Developing Friendships, Established Relationship, Kaer Morhen, M/M, Non-Human Jaskier | Dandelion, POV Outsider, Platonic Relationships, Realization, phoenix Jaskier
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-13
Updated: 2020-06-13
Packaged: 2021-03-03 22:02:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,120
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24702751
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WinterLadyy/pseuds/winterbitch
Summary: Geralt and Jaskier are everything a Witcher shouldn't have and Lambert isn't sure what to do about them. Yet, Jaskier fits in Kaer Morhen like no non-Witcher had before him and somehow, Lambert cannot imagine Kaer Morhen without him. Then he finds a burning bird in the yard in the middle of the night and things get even more complicated. Or more simple, in spire of everything.
Relationships: Eskel & Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia & Lambert, Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Jaskier | Dandelion, Jaskier | Dandelion & Lambert
Comments: 22
Kudos: 788





	warm in your embrace

**Author's Note:**

> inspired by an ask i got from ivy-raven on Tumblr, about phoenix jaskier and reveals. it's not what they asked for exactly, but inspiration struck and shit happened

Lambert enters the library and immediately pauses in his steps. His brother and the bard are there, cuddled up in front of the hearth and something in Lambert’s chest squeezes at the sight of them.

They’re everything a Witcher shouldn’t have but when Lambert told the bard that, Jaskier just laughed at his face and told him there’s much more to the world than what old angry men told you. He refuses to consider how it made him think of Aiden’s green eyes and roughish smile, how the memory made his heartbeat pick up.

Witchers have the Path and their weapons and their potions. Nothing else.

They don’t get companions or friends or partners, gods forbid. They can have lovers for one night, but a partner like Jaskier? It’s not for them. He shouldn’t fit in their life, but he _does_ and it infuriates Lambert.

He saw how Jaskier stares down a growling Geralt without a hint of fear in his scent, how he quoted the bestiary at Vesemir and made quips about potions to Eskel. Jaskier isn’t a Witcher but somehow he fits between them, rough warriors not better than the monsters they hunt. He fits in Kaer Morhen like he was born to be here like there’s nowhere else he’d rather be.

“Lambert,” the same bard calls quietly, making Lambert come back to reality. They’re still cuddled in front of the fire, Geralt’s head resting on the bard’s shoulder, a gentle hand in his hair, petting. “Want to join us, my Wild Wolf?”

Lambert stares for a second before shrugging. “Got nothin’ else to do,” he finally growls and settles in the chair next to them, arms crossing in front of his chest. He doesn’t want to be here, but he’s not that much of an asshole to refuse.

Okay, that may be a lie. He may have just run away without a word when Jaskier proposed to sit with them before but hey, he’s a Witcher and he can’t keep running away.

“I’m reading poetry to Geralt, would you like to listen?” Jaskier asks kindly.

Lambert swallows. “Whatever.”

Jaskier sends him another kind smile that makes him want to cry for some reason and starts reading. His voice is soothing and surprisingly deep for how he sings sometimes, but Lambert can’t deny how relaxed it makes him feel. Geralt is already dozing, his scent all content-sweet and love-spicy, almost purring. The purring makes him think about Aiden again and he forcefully removes those thoughts from his mind. Now is the time to relax.

He keeps watching them through the winter.

How Jaskier keeps stealing Geralt’s shirts, how Geralt wears his hickeys proudly, how they reach for each other in any room they are, how they argue and call each other names and playfully wrestle in the snow.

The first time it happened, Lambert was sure they’ll have a sick human on their hands soon, but Jaskier just pinned Geralt to the ground and shook the snow from his hair with a laugh. Now, Eskel sometimes joins and it makes Jaskier light up like a damn Sun.

That’s how Jaskier feels in the keep. He’s all bright, warm fire that brings life back into those cold walls, but burning and painful when someone angers him. He learned that lesson well.

When the winter truly takes hold and the air is almost too painfully cold to inhale, Lambert can see how Vesemir seeks Jaskier out to talk about alchemy, how Eskel spends long hours discussing literature with the bard, how Geralt is so sure that Jaskier will never ever leave him… He’s not alone in this.

One night he’s woken up by the vague idea that something is wrong.

Lambert grabs his sword and creeps down the stairs, meeting Vesemir and Eskel there. Geralt is surprisingly absent but maybe Jaskier is keeping him occupied. Together. They walk towards the yard and there, they can see a faint glow of red and blue. Heat is also coming from that direction so they run into the yard and stop dead when they see the giant burning bird nesting against a wall.

Mostly red, but with feathers tinted blue, the bird is as big as a house, magnificent tail feathers spread on the yard, wings tucked close as it slowly gathers rubble and sticks into one place. Its legs are covered in golden scales, talons long and red. Deadly and beautiful, covered in burning fire.

“What the fuck,” he whispers, his sword hitting the ground with a clunk.

It makes the bird, the phoenix, turn to them with stunningly beautiful blue eyes. It makes a small sound like a thrill and shakes its tail feathers. Vesemir is straightening his shoulders to say something, but then Geralt stumbles on the yard.

He’s shirtless, hair a mess, eyes still glassy.

“Jask? You were restless, hmm?” he asks the bird as if nothing’s wrong and stumbles right at it.

Eskel makes a small sound but the moment Geralt touches the feathers, the fire goes out and the bird thrills softly again, nuzzling against Geralt’s head.

“Geralt,” Vesemir snaps. “Explain.”

It seems like it’s only then that the White Wolf notices them, but still stays leaning against the bird. Phoenix. Jaskier?

“That’s Jaskier,” Geralt says simply, confirming Lamber’s suspicions. It’s still a bit too much to handle. “I thought we told you…?”

Vesemir sighs deeply, lowering his sword as well. “Stupid pup,” he mutters and slowly walks closer.

The heat is actually kind of nice so Lambert and Eskel follow and Jaskier brings his tail closer, long, magnificent feathers radiating warmth as they gather the Witcher’s closer. Geralt sends Jaskier a small smile so the bird lays on one side and gathers Geralt close with his wing. His head settles on Geralt’s lap and they all look at the pair.

“I found out when we were sentenced for burning in some bumfuck-nowhere village and Jaskier decided to go first. Now we can’t go there anymore, he burned the lord,” Geralt shrugs, succinct and simple as always.

Lamber can see Jaskier rolling his eyes but the phoenix doesn’t change into another form to explain more. He shrugs, shakes his head and leans back against the tail feathers.

At that, Jaskier makes a thrill and stands up, to kind of herd them together. Only then does he lay down, tail wrapped around them, wing covering their heads. It’s surprisingly cosy and warm there and it’s been such a long time since he was in a puppy pile…

Lambert closes his eyes and nuzzles against the feathers, feeling Eskel lean against him. Maybe next year he’ll bring Aiden with him for the winter. What’s one more misfit between them?


End file.
